


Dry Drowning

by werewolfboy



Category: Naruto
Genre: Canon Universe, Nonbinary Character, Original Character(s), Other, Tags May Change, nb character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-26
Updated: 2018-11-26
Packaged: 2019-08-29 16:32:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16747576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/werewolfboy/pseuds/werewolfboy
Summary: The phenomenon of drowning on land known as “secondary” or “dry” drowning is one that occurs when water enters your lungs without killing you right away. Instead, it festers and cuts off your oxygen supply over the next few days and often culminates in death or health complications past recovery. This is something like love, if you’re not ready for it. Flier sees the towering swordsman for what he is- the ocean come to land. They’ve always been afraid of drowning, but they never imagined it could be anything like this.A short piece about my character Flier and Kisame.





	Dry Drowning

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write a new character and I wanted to try a different vibe than I normally do, so I invented Flier and I wrote this. As stated in the tags, Flier is nonbinary, please respect that!

Kisame is like the ocean, a large vast expanse of danger and mystery and beauty.

 

Flier knows this, knows the shape of his body and how it fits against theirs, knows that when their body meets his it is dangerous,  _ he _ is dangerous. But they still fall into his bed every time he so much as smiles at them, and Flier know it isn’t good for them, they know that life is fraught with peril and deception and to trust Kisame enough to have sex with him is stupid stupid  _ stupid _ . Every single night they spend in his bedroll, every kiss, every second they spare to think about him is stolen time and soon enough someone on the outside is going to find out and they will both pay dearly.

 

Their liaisons don’t stay secret for very long- the Akatsuki is an organization of highly skilled rogues, and being perceptive is the name of the game. Sex is sex, people seem to get that. They’re highly trained, but not made of stone- sex is an urge, a need, and in some it is more obvious than others. Flier remembers several subtle passes other members made at them in the past, from longtime members to less savoury and short-lived ones- often partnered to and killed by Kakuzu. No one member had ever truly left an impression on them before Kisame, and before Kisame there had been quite a few people in the organization. Short trysts, one and all, before he showed any interest in keeping them all to himself.

 

Flier doesn’t remember exactly how it began, how it went from casual sex with anyone who consented when the need arose to  _ just _ Kisame. They also can’t account for when it was really  _ just _ sex, and not something more.

 

There are snide comments sometimes, because it was never Flier’s way before to just stick to one person. Flier doesn’t mind them so much, not really, but the implications sometimes keep them up at night. When they put the question to Kisame, he just shrugs and that’s good enough for Flier, for now. He just shrugs and reaches for them and every time they come to stand by his side without question, without comment. He’s good, he knows he’s good, and Flier doesn’t care because they know that even if they’re not equals in strength at least in bed there’s a steadiness to them both.

 

He makes them feel so good, they make him feel good too and that’s enough until it isn’t.

 

For the first time in their lonely life, Flier  _ wants _ something and it’s something they don’t think they can have. They’re a rogue, living on borrowed time, with a bounty on their head and all the forces of the world conspiring to bring them down for flying the colours they fly and wearing the robes that they wear and Kisame is the same as them and it’s all too much.

 

Their lovemaking becomes less rushed and desperate and there is this unspoken thing between them now, there’s a held breath because neither of them wants to admit that it’s there. Kisame holds them, afterwards, and it’s a loose enough grip that Flier could push away if they really wanted to but they don’t and on some level Kisame knows that but he doesn’t push his luck and tighten his grip. He never used to really hold them before, not like this, this gentle touch and a warmth that spreads across Flier’s skin wherever their body meets his.

 

It doesn’t take long before Flier finds themself moving closer to him, seeking him out actively and holding on to him just a smidge tighter than he holds them. They kept each other’s company before, but the atmosphere is charged between them, it makes the fine hairs on Flier’s arms stand on end. 

 

Itachi is the first to notice, or perhaps it’s because Itachi and Kisame are often in each other’s company when Flier comes to visit that Flier notices Itachi’s perceptiveness. Itachi doesn’t say a word, not that he’s ever been the talkative type, but Flier is grateful. He doesn’t ask questions, he doesn’t make comments, he acts the same way he has always done and Flier does not know how to repay his kind silence, but they want to.

 

Flier tends to keep to themself unless otherwise ordered, so they don’t know if anyone else has noticed. They don’t go out of their way to talk to anyone unless they’re on a mission, or unless it absolutely can’t be helped. They’ve never played very well with others, not really, and it was that attitude that made them go rogue in the first place. They were hardwired to be solitary, and like most solitary creatures taught to fight to survive, it rarely boded well for anyone to try and approach them. Or, it used to.

 

Their leader knows. There’s no way he doesn’t, there’s no way he can’t. He has eyes everywhere, his own or someone else’s, there is no shortage of people Flier doesn’t suspect. Flier has to assume he already knows- Itachi’s noticed, after all, and what’s more everyone else already knows whose company Flier keeps at night. But no one says anything, no one does anything, so Flier doesn’t either. They won’t stop unless they’re ordered, so they tell themself when an afternoon of thinking themself into a circle makes them nothing but irritated.

 

Kisame finds them like that one afternoon, the rain is relentless like always and the sound drives Flier absolutely mad. They’re lying on their cot, an arm draped over their forehead, glaring at the ceiling and imagining a hypothetical situation where they’ve been ordered to stop their… whatever it is, with Kisame. He walks in when they’re at their most strung up, jaw taut and fists clenched as they teeter on the imaginary rope above the abyss that they’ve created.

 

“Hey. You look like you’re about to tear someone a new one.” He’s jovial today, probably because of all of the rain. Flier supposes he’s used to it.

 

“Not in the mood.” They rub the bridge of their nose angrily, only barely glancing his way. Kisame approaches and sits next to them, the cot dips under his weight. Flier’s side is now just barely touching Kisame’s thigh and they wish they could hate how good it felt. They abandon their tightrope dilemma and roll onto their side, and Kisame and Flier move until Kisame’s back is against the wall and Flier’s torso is lazily sprawled across his muscular thighs. Kisame’s hand comes down to rest at the small of their back, and Flier untenses a little. 

 

This too, is new to them. Flier won’t admit as much to Kisame, but they thrill at being held so casually.

 

“... Hate this damn rain.” Flier says finally, and that’s about as much of the truth and they want to get into. Kisame rolls his shoulders as a response, staring down at them with the same grin as earlier. The hand on their back slides up to their shoulder. Flier’s cheek rests against Kisame’s thigh. “Never get used to how much it rains here.”

 

“There’s an easy cure for that, you know.” He says, bold as ever. Flier’s eyes narrow a fraction, considering his offer. Kisame’s smile widens when Flier moves to hug his waist loosely. “All you have to do is ask.”

 

Flier asks. 

 

Afternoon fades into night, and the sound of the rain is constant but it doesn’t keep Flier’s attention like it had earlier. Flier listens to it fall with the ear that isn’t pressed tight to Kisame’s chest, listening to his heartbeat. His chest rises and falls like waves on the shore and for once, Flier isn’t paralyzed with terror. 

 

The ocean is death, that is what Flier’s always known. But slowly, carefully, this man who is the ocean brought to land and given form has enticed them toward it. Showed them the possibility of life in the depths.

 

Water takes the shape of whatever vessel it inhabits. The sliver of Flier’s heart that remains undamaged by the world is all that they can offer, and Kisame is at home there. The sea of his heart swells around them, embracing their form in the shapeless way that water does.

 

Lying there, in bed with him, Flier starts to think that maybe drowning isn’t so bad after all.


End file.
